


affair

by gonnapop



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Smuggler Kylo Ren, Trans Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 14:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnapop/pseuds/gonnapop
Summary: He looks so good like this: swollen and round, heavy with Kylo’s child. It’s too bad he’s married to someone else.





	affair

**Author's Note:**

> I hammered this out as a way to get the ol' brain juices flowing again. also, I've been wanting to write more kylux.
> 
> **content warnings:** this fic features Hux as a dfab trans man. there are many references to dfab anatomy (including words like “cunt” and “pussy”), as well as explicit cunnilingus and vaginal sex. I understand that this may not work for all readers. I want to minimize the chances of someone being inadvertently triggered while reading, so please mind the tags, consider how they might interact with your own triggers/sensitivies, and read safely.

The moment the penthouse door slides shut behind Kylo, Hux is on him, all mouth and hands. It’s been two weeks since they last saw each other, even such short separations are becoming intolerable. They make their way to the bedroom, barely managing not to trip over each other’s feet, shedding clothes for the housekeeping droid to pick up.

Hux is struggling to free himself from his own trousers as Kylo backs him up against the edge of the large, white-sheeted bed. Normally, Kylo would gladly do this part for him, ripping Hux out of his clothes using the Force or just his hands. They both know how much Hux enjoys being manhandled, tossed around—but in his current condition, it would be unwise. Kylo kisses him again, licking into Hux’s mouth while he slides his hands to the other man’s waist.

Lately, he’s favored loose, comfortable clothing, to accommodate his ever-changing body. Hux’s trousers cling low on his hips, the waistband under the curve of his heavily pregnant belly. Kylo slides the trousers down in one smooth motion, then tips Hux backward onto the mattress, pulling them the rest of the way off.

Hux isn’t wearing any manner of underthings, Kylo sees immediately, and a fresh flush of desire goes through him.

“Well, come on, then,” Hux says impatiently, looking up at Kylo, now entirely nude. He leans back on his hands, back arched a little to display his ample chest, legs parted, face already flushed along the cheekbones. “What are you waiting for? I know what you’re after.”

Pregnancy suits him, Kylo thinks, taking a moment to admire Hux. His narrow frame has softened as his belly rounded out and his breasts grew. His hair is thicker and shinier than before, and his skin has more color. Altogether, he appears healthy, comfortable, almost glowing. He looks so good like this: swollen and round, heavy with Kylo’s child.

It’s too bad he’s married to someone else.

Hux’s husband is an arrogant, tedious older man who considers himself a great deal more competent than he actually is: Orson Krennic, the current director of Imperial Industries. For three years, Kylo has done work for him off and on; his particular skill set makes him valuable as a combination smuggler and hired gun. And for nearly that long, Kylo and Hux have carried on an affair.

Almost from the moment they made eye contact, Kylo knew that it was only a matter of time before the two of them crashed together. From the start, it was thrilling, almost intoxicating—fucking in the bed Hux shared with his husband, or aboard Kylo’s freighter, or in hotel rooms booked under assumed names. Time and familiarity haven’t taken the edge off yet.

After a week-long rendezvous while Hux’s husband was off-world, Kylo’s other contracts kept him away for half a year. Being apart from Hux for so long was a trial—Kylo was getting sentimental, perhaps too much so. But in due time, Krennic needed him for another smuggling run, and Kylo was more than happy to accept the job.

He dropped by the lavish penthouse apartment that Hux and Krennic shared to discuss the details, as was routine. He expected to see Hux there, to exchange looks behind his husband’s back, maybe sneak a blowjob in the bathroom, circumstances permitting. That was how it usually happened. He did not expect Hux to be pregnant—and yet, there he was, belly undeniably rounded, reluctant to meet Kylo’s eyes. He was six months along.

The obvious question has hung between them ever since. Hux has never said a word to Kylo about paternity, and Kylo has never asked. He doesn’t really consider it necessary. Krennic thinks the baby is his, presumably; despite their lackluster sex life, Hux obviously performed his marital duties often enough for the timing not to be suspicious. Meanwhile, Kylo feels certain that Hux is carrying _his_ baby, though he can’t prove it—Hux probably wouldn’t accept his Force-related premonitions as evidence.

It’s awkward when they’re alone together, sometimes, tense—but it hasn’t stopped them from fucking urgently whenever Krennic’s back is turned. Kylo had never slept with a pregnant person before; he couldn’t have anticipated how much better the sex would be, or how wildly attracted he would be to Hux’s changing body. He’s been inventing excuses to come to Coruscant, just to get Hux into bed.

Lately, Hux is insatiable: always sopping wet and ready, eager and responsive. Few positions are comfortable for him anymore—it’s been that way since he started growing truly large—but that just means they’ve had to be creative.

“Are you sure?” Kylo asks him now, standing over him. He always wants Hux, but this late in the pregnancy, he sometimes wonders if his lust is appropriate. “I mean, is it safe?”

“Yes, yes, it’s no problem!” Hux is red-faced, desperate. “I can fuck right up until I go into labor—”

Which ought to be any day now, Kylo thinks, considering the size of him, and how low he’s carrying. The baby has dropped; Hux really looks ready to pop. This might be the last time he gets a chance to be with Hux before the baby comes—and after, they’ll have to wait until he’s recovered from the birth. “If you insist,” Kylo says, and then supports Hux with both hands as the other mean maneuvers himself onto his hands and knees, moving slowly and carefully to accommodate the heft of his belly. It only takes a few seconds for Kylo to pull off the rest of his own clothes, dropping them at his feet and then climbing onto the bed to join his waiting lover.

Gently, Kylo peels Hux open with his thumbs, admiring the neat pink folds of his pussy, already glistening wet, as if in anticipation. He leans down and swipes the flat of his tongue across Hux, from bottom to top, and Hux makes a strangled noise. Taking that as encouragement, Kylo licks at him a few more times, then sucks gently at his outer folds.

Hux is already getting wet. The taste of him is different than before he got pregnant: sharper, muskier, almost dizzying. Gripping the meat of Hux’s thighs for balance, Kylo buries his face in Hux’s pussy, kisses him like he would on the mouth: deep and expansive. Before long, his nose and mouth and chin are all slick.

Rubbing at Hux’s stiff clit with his thumb, Kylo pushes his tongue in and out of the slick hole. The sound is wet, obscene, and so are the desperate, throaty noises Hux is making. Kylo can feel him winding tighter and tighter, his legs trembling. When he comes, it’s with a strangled cry that tapers into gasps as Kylo licks and sucks him through the aftershocks.

Almost helplessly, Hux lowers himself to balance on his forearms, ass upraised, knees spread, and that’s all the invitation Kylo needs. His cunt looks like a slice of fruit, red and wet and mouth-watering.

He would’ve expected Hux to be tighter, but he’s relaxed from Kylo’s earlier attentions, unbelievably slick. They both moan as Kylo pushes in—one long, slow slide, until he’s fully seated. Hux is hot and close around him. He thrusts shallowly at first, cautious, until he feels Hux pushing back against him, the muscles in his thighs straining. Each inward slide pushes a low, deep moan out of Hux, like it’s a relief to be fucked. He needs this.

“Do you think your husband knows?” Kylo hears himself ask, breathlessly. He’s holding Hux by the hips as he slides in and out.

“What?”

“That this baby isn’t his.”

“Ren!” Hux yelps his name, scandalized, but he’s also pulsing with desire. His thoughts are muddied, swirling, but Kylo can tell that he likes the idea of being plowed by the man who impregnated him. He wonders if Hux fantasizes about Kylo when he’s with Krennic, if indeed the two of them are still sleeping together—but, no, better to push that notion from his mind. He picks up the pace, a more urgent rhythm.

“What’ll he say when it comes out looking like me?” Kylo asks, raising his voice to be heard above the wet, steady slapping. “When he realizes what a slut you are? Opened your legs for a pirate. Got yourself knocked up—”

Somehow, that makes Hux moan. He buries his face in the sheets, pushing himself back to meet Kylo’s thrusts. “He’d—oh, fuck—he’d kill you—”

“No, I’d kill him first. It would be easy. And then we’d be free to fuck in peace, no more sneaking around. I could put another baby in you—”

“Ah! Ren, oh—”

“Keep you barefoot and pregnant. Full of me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Suddenly, he feels Hux spasm around him—coming again, untouched. The rhythmic muscle contractions push Kylo over the edge, too, his vision going white at the edges. He pulses into Hux, deeply, and shudders at the thought of how this is exactly what got them into this situation to begin with.

 

* * *

 

They lie together, catching their breath, afternoon light spilling across the rumpled sheets.

So late in his pregnancy, Hux is much too big to lie on his back, so he’s sprawled on his side, a pillow wedged between his knees. His pale, freckled legs are bare, though he pulled on a loose-fitting white tunic when they were done fucking—clearly not for modesty’s sake, because it leaves little to the imagination. If he were sitting up, the oversized garment would hang off his shoulders.

The thin, gauzy fabric accentuates Hux’s body rather than obscures it, clinging to his swollen belly and round breasts. Before he got pregnant, Hux had only the merest suggestion of tits, but now they’re like ripe fruit, the perfect size for Kylo to cup in each hand. He can see Hux’s nipples through the diaphanous fabric: bigger than before the pregnancy, puffy, darkened to a rosy pink. He wants to get his mouth on them, knead them together, listen to Hux whine because his breasts are tender.

“What are you doing?” Hux asks, when Kylo tugs at the low collar of Hux’s tunic.

“I want to see your tits.”

“Ren!” Hux sounds scandalized, but in the end, he just heaves a sigh and allows Kylo to pull his collar down far enough to expose one sweet round breast. Kylo thumbs gently at the nipple, until it stiffens, and Hux makes a delicious little noise.

“Look at you,” Kylo says, in a low voice. He dips his head and takes the sore, rosy tip of Hux’s breast into his mouth, suckling gently. Hux almost whimpers; his nipples have always been sensitive, but since he got pregnant, they’ve been like pleasure buttons. Kylo pulls off the breast with a wet pop, then slides one hand over the smooth, firm mound of Hux’s belly. He wishes the baby would kick, but it seems to be resting now, just like Hux. “I can’t believe how huge you are.”

Hux frowns, though his reddened cheeks betray his arousal. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Humming appreciatively, Kylo pulls Hux’s other breast out of his tunic, then pauses to admire the pair. He sucks a few worshipful kisses to the thin, soft, delicate skin of Hux’s tits. They’ll get even bigger when his milk comes in, overspilling, and that’ll be a sight to see. He wonders if Hux will let him have a taste.

Eventually, he dares to ask, “Will he be back in time for the birth?”

Hux doesn’t have to ask who he’s referring to. “Doubtful. He’s supposed to be another three weeks on Nydam II, and I can’t imagine I’ll last that long. I’m due in a week.”

“So you’ll be alone?” Kylo’s edging into dangerous territory. They’ve never spoken much about the baby, but he doesn’t see how that can continue, when it’s almost here. “That doesn’t sound ideal.”

“I wouldn’t want Orson there, anyway. He’d be utterly useless.”

“Someone should be there with you.”

Hux’s voice is dry. “And, what, you think you’re the man for the job?”

“Sure. I’m not squeamish. Actually, I think I’d like to watch you have it.”

“You’re disgusting,” Hux says, but he flushes a little, like the thought is arousing. “And you’d have no business in the delivery room, anyway. It’s not yours.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why are you so repelled by the idea that I might be carrying my husband’s baby?”

“Because you’re not. You’re carrying mine.” 

Hux doesn’t respond to that, his mouth tightening, and Kylo worries that he may have crossed a line. They lie together in silence, breathing quietly, for a long time.

After a while, without quite looking at Kylo, Hux says, “Well, if you happen to be on-planet when the time comes and you promise not to faint, I suppose you could drop by.”

Kylo leans over and presses a kiss to Hux’s bare shoulder, smiling against his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> so who’s the father? you decide.
> 
> I’d kind of like to write an epilogue/sequel (maybe where Hux gives birth?), but I’m not sure about the concept. if you have something you’d like to see in a future installment/continuation, please feel free to let me know via comment or [tumblr message](http://gonna-pop.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> thanks for reading! xoxo


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